The Torture Room
by Aayla Security
Summary: They bantered from the confines of their cells...as he watched.


The Torture Room

Archive – Take it; it's yours (just tell me where it will end up).

Category – Angst, Drama

Rating – PG-13

Summary – They bantered from the confines of their cells…as he watched.

Feedback – Greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer – Any money-wise profitable aspects in regard to this franchise certainly are not affiliated with me.

Author's Note – I made some small but important revisions to the story. The point I was trying to get across wasn't quite clear (judging from the reviews and the lack thereof), so I tried to make them clearer. Granted, though, this kind of story probably isn't for this crowd anyway.

* * *

The surroundings slowly faded to view. As his vision struggled to adjust, he realized that he was between two force fields, each of which was shimmering - the only source of light in this otherwise completely dark place.

"Glad you could join me," a voice joyfully announced, a voice poisoned with madness, a voice he instantly recognized as –

"X," the shape behind the force field to his right acknowledged. He could barely discern it.

"Your insistent reference to my original designation is amusing," the voice behind the left force field laughed, "Pity. Pity. You still cling onto the thought that a monster is responsible for _your_ failure."

As if to stress this, the murderer's face emerged from the darkness. The light of the force field illuminated its strikingly hideous features that were accentuated by the shadows in between the pieces of metals.

The shape behind his right force field shifted ever so slightly. "I will not fail them," the voice said quietly, "…if I destroy you."

He stood there as both figures fell silent. The form to his right remained in the shadow, but he couldn't recognize it, nor would he want to. He was afraid of what he would find out in the figure…judging from the flow of violent emotions of sorrow and anger that was permeating through space. Before long, the voice to his right spoke again, as if it was unable to self-contain, "Have you realized how peculiar the current state is? The face that I see every night is only several inches away from my grasp, yet I cannot reach for and crush it."

"And never will you," the murderer's face, its only visible part, twisted into a sneer, "You are weak. You've _always_ been weak," it spoke in such a way as if the very word "you" was in itself an insult, "Do you recall the first day we met?"

"It was a moment to remember," the other one suddenly bellowed in a trembling voice before quickly regaining its composure, "A creep indulged his inner monster. Indeed, very impressive."

The tone betrayed anything but that, he listened, and noted.

"You're trying to lighten the weight again," apparently, so did the murderer, "yet I seem to remember a certain Maximal's ear-splitting wail in the – what was the ruins' original function again? Ah, yes, the observatory."

His chest tightened for some reason, and the murderer continued, "You were such a crybaby. Kneeling on top of the corpses as if the world had collapsed. It was just a whole colony, I tried to remind you before your own painful demise, but, noooo, you turned around and shot me."

"I would have torn you apart," the other one spoke, its voice dripping so much contempt and hatred that it shocked him, "And if not for the explosion I _would_ have! But you fled, X, like a _coward_."

"And you weren't?" the murderer retorted, "You wouldn't have destroyed me anyway! Could you have removed my spark given the chance? No. You did not have the _guts_."

"Maybe not, but I've changed, X, and if I were what I am today I would have slaughtered you, just like what you did to –"

"And you would enjoy it, wouldn't you? You would enjoy _my_ pain and suffering! And after that, you will not stop – they have to _scream_ to feel what you feel. This is what you have become, my playmate: a monster, and what a repulsive monster you are! Sadistic, ruthless, murderous… I have corrupted you, and you are no better than I am!"

The murderer paused, as if waiting for a heated reaction, but the adversary merely snarled, hurting his hearing, "You have no idea of even your own doing, X. Even though I would gladly slaughter you, it would not be out of my lust for your anguish, but justice! It is only with your termination can your victims rest in peace." the other one declared, like so many times before, he realized.

The murderer laughed, its arms lightened as it swung them in appalling enthusiasm, "So you are doing this for _my victims'_ peace?"

"And what if I am?" the other one snapped, to his surprise.

"Then, even though you changed, you are no more than the crybaby that you once were, Fishboy! Dead Maximals can't feel – dead Maximals are _dead! And you know that better than anyone else!_ Face it; you are doing this only because _you know_ you are guilty! Because _they_ are the ones who paid for _your_ incompetence!"

_So it is out_, he lamented, his head spinning. He knew it ever since it all began...and the shape shook in rage, "Yet, had it not been for you, they wouldn't –"

"Of course, why else would you follow my lead? Is it not the twisted vengeance that you seek? Didn't your distorted craving for personal vendetta and redemption lead you to this place? You are here because you belong here, and there's no exit to it! Attempt to destroy me if you will, but you will be left without a purpose. You alone will face the haunting of the destruction of Omicron. You will be in a world of _slag_."

He was ready to puke; the sickening feeling was driving him insane. He could not stand this anymore. He needed to get out, and then, he heard it, the soft voice with the hint of maniacal laughter, "I _am_ in a world of slag."

The murderer tilted its head upwards in incredulity.

"I _am_ in a world of slag," the voice repeated, with more determination. Then, without warnings, he felt a sudden split between his body and mind. Hands clawed into the shimmering force field, breaking the barrier. Voltages of electricity from the unseen above struck and finally revealed the hunter. Furious, brutal, defaced…the ghastly sight had him drop to his knees and clutch his head in pain.

More volts of electrocuting followed, but the hunter did not stop. The motion of its limbs only became more feverish.

"You are truly unaware of what you have done, aren't you?" the hunter hissed, "The sparks you consumed…do you think _I_ could let it go as easily as you did? I'm responsible and suffer for what happened, yes, but only because I was unable to protect them from _you_! You have made my hate consume me, but it will only accelerate your own execution!"

The hunter's force field was deactivated. It proceeded to tear down that of its nemesis', sending voltages ravening through the murderer.

"I have nothing to lose, X!" the hunter shouted in amidst of the monster's shrieking, "To the Pit if I have to face my guilt and grief – to the Pit if I know who I am – and to the Pit if I care what is right and what is wrong! I must destroy you, X, and if I must bring doom to the universe, then _so be it_."

He watched with bated breath, his mind in a chaos, and the sound of the murderer's screech exploded. Then, in the hurricane of thoughts, images and voices, he found himself holding the raw Energon on top of _his_ nemesis' unguarded chest. The enemy's laughter lingered, but the glee in the green optics had been replaced by fear and disbelief.

An unreadable expression spread across Depth Charge's face before he thrust the sword into the abomination. Waters were blasted into the air; the sparks screamed, and vanished.

* * *

Author's Final Note – Although I would rather leave this story open to interpretation, several things _are_ definite and intended to be interpreted in a very limited sense: the whole "cell" experience was not, as you have probably guessed, anything physical; rather, it was Depth Charge's dying hallucination. And even though there were three figures in the story, there was, in actuality, only one character. 


End file.
